


What is Mine I Keep

by elrhiarhodan



Series: Dragon 'Verse [2]
Category: White Collar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-11-08 03:19:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11072973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elrhiarhodan/pseuds/elrhiarhodan
Summary: Continuing the tale first told inWeep to Break the World(the first story in the Dragon'Verse).  As Peter promised, Neal has been obedient and earned some privileges, so Peter takes him to meet his clan chief, Elizabeth.  If Elizabeth doesn't eat him, maybe Neal will learn how to transform.





	What is Mine I Keep

**Author's Note:**

  * For [palombaggia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/palombaggia/gifts).



> A/N: Written for the seventh night of Fic-Can-Ukah, 2014, for [](http://palombaggia.livejournal.com/profile)[**palombaggia**](http://palombaggia.livejournal.com/). She asked for "Only here, only now" with Peter/Neal.

"Where are we going?"

Peter had shown up at his apartment around the crack of dawn, waited impatiently for him to get dressed, handed him a go-cup of some rather inferior coffee and a surprisingly tasty donut before hustling him downstairs and into his car. Not the government-issue black Ford Taurus, but an upmarket BMW 7-series sedan. It didn't quite fit with the image of Peter Burke, stalwart FBI agent, but then "Peter Burke, stalwart FBI agent" was only a cover for Peter Burke, an ancient and powerful Dracon.

Neal could tell that they were heading north, which was a little troubling. Sing-Sing was in that direction. Peter didn't answer his question and Neal licked his lips nervously. "You're not taking me back _there_?"

The car vibrated a little weirdly and Neal caught his breath. He'd experienced this a few times in the last several weeks and wasn't quite sure what it was, but thought it might have something to do with Peter's mood.

But Peter didn't seem angry or upset. In fact, he asked rather laconically, "Any reason why I should?"

Neal sank down into the comfortable seat and muttered, "No." Which wasn't precisely true. Moz had shown up at the apartment a few days ago with plans on relieving a rather famous Fifth Avenue jewelry store of a recent shipment of tanzanite and diamond jewelry. Neal had reluctantly declined. The ensuing conversation was a little unpleasant, but Moz was ultimately persuaded to abandon his plans.

"So where are we going?" Neal looked at Peter and was surprised to see a bit of a smirk bleed through that usually stoic expression.

"Remember what I said to you the day I picked you up at prison?"

Neal nodded. "Yeah, you said we were going to have fun."

"And we have, haven't we?"

Neal had to agree. "Yeah. Catching the bad guys _has_ been fun. Except for getting shot at."

"You should have let Fiametta take the Book of Hours. Your life is far more important than an old bible."

That shocked Neal. "Really, Ruiz and Hughes didn't seem to think so."

"Ruiz is an ass."

"You two seem to have quite a history."

"He has a habit of encroaching on my territory."

"Not smart."

"No, not at all. Ruiz is a good agent, don't get me wrong. But he's a **k'charic menharr**."

The BMW rattled alarmingly, but Neal smiled. He loved when Peter gave him words in Drathic. "A what?"

"A hoard thief."

"Really? He'd actually try to steal from you?"

"Cases, yes. We've butted heads over internal jurisdiction a few times."

"I did hear a rumor about that when Ruiz showed up at the office. Something about a lot of broken glass."

Peter chuckled. "That wasn't a good day to be on the 21st floor. There's a reason why there are canopies around the perimeter of the building now – to protect the pedestrians."

"Ah." Neal had actually wondered about that. The external structures didn't quite jibe with the building's minimalist architecture.

Peter continued. "But remember, you're mine, and it's my call about what's important. And I probably shouldn't tell you this, but Agent Hughes has been most impressed by your conduct and your contributions. And he'll deny it if you ask him."

Neal smiled, pleased that he'd pleased the old Dracon. "You know, you still haven't told me where we're going."

Peter seemed inclined to draw out the suspense. "What else did I tell you that first day?"

Neal thought back. That day wasn't so long ago, but so much had happened since. "Sorry – you said a lot of things. It was also the first time in my life that I was threatened with being eaten for any misbehavior. That's what stands out."

Peter chuckled. "Remember what I said to you about following orders?"

The light finally dawned. "Ah. I follow orders, I get privileges."

"Yup."

"So, this is a field trip for my benefit? A privilege?"

"Exactly. We're going to meet my clan chief, Elizabeth. If she doesn't eat you, I'll take the anklet off and we'll start your lessons on transformation."

Neal sat up, excited. "Really?"

"I keep my word, Neal. You’d best remember that."

"You know, you keep threatening me with being eaten. First June, now your clan chief. Are Draconis really cannibals?"

Peter laughed and everything seemed to shimmer. "No, we're not, at least under normal circumstances. But we don't hesitate if the circumstances are appropriate. Best remember that, too."

Neal wasn't sure if Peter was joking or serious. He changed the subject, because Peter seemed to be in an expansive mood and maybe he'd be willing to answer some basic questions. "So, Elizabeth is our clan chief."

"No, my clan chief. Not yours."

"Who is mine?"

Peter didn't answer.

"Peter?"

Peter sighed. "We don't know, Neal. You aren't listed in the **Salcon m'Draconan** , the Book of Fire."

"Book of Fire?"

"It's a … database of all Dracon lineages. When you were born, your very existence, should have been automatically noted. It wasn't."

"Why not?"

Peter sighed and the car gave off that bizarre vibration again. "I don't know."

"So I'm a riddle?"

"Yes - what's the quote? 'A riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma'."

Moz would probably know the origin of that saying. But that was irrelevant. Neal wasn't all that happy about the situation. Since Peter took him from prison, he'd successfully kept himself from obsessing over his newly discovered nature. But now, he couldn't stop thinking about it. "Will you be able to find out?"

"Maybe." Peter sighed again. "Look, I know you have a lot of questions. I do, too. And I promise you we'll get some answers. And remember what I just told you?"

"That I'll be eaten if I misbehave?"

"That, yes – but what else?"

"That you keep your promises."

"Right."

Neal was silent for a little while, digesting what Peter had told him. But he still had questions. "So, Elizabeth. Can you tell me about her?"

"She's my clan chief."

"Okay, you told me that. What does that mean?"

"I owe my loyalty to her, she is entitled to claim a portion of my hoard, and she has the right to dictate how I live my life. She protects me and expects my support in all critical issues relating to our clan."

It sounded like Elizabeth exercised quite a bit of control over Peter's life. Still, Neal figured there was more to Peter's relationship with Elizabeth than that, but he'd probably discover it on his own. "And how did she become your clan chief? Are Draconis a matriarchal society?"

Peter shook his head. "No. We're neither matriarchal nor patriarchal. We are sexually egalitarian."

Neal wasn't sure what that meant, so he stayed focused on the immediate issue. "So, how did Elizabeth become your clan chief?" He bit his lip and, in a moment of daring humor, asked, "Did she eat her rival?"

To his surprise, Peter nodded.

"Really?"

"Really. She asked her predecessor to step down but he wouldn't."

"So she just ate him?"

"Well, it wasn't as simple as that. But, yes. She ate him, nose to tail."

Neal couldn't hold back a bark of laughter, still not sure that Peter wasn't pulling his leg. "Pity Human electoral disputes can't be solved that easily."

The further north they got, the more obvious it was that winter was pushing autumn out of the way. The trees, which were still dressed in their red and golden splendor down in Manhattan, were mostly bare. Even the bright blue sky decorated with a few wispy clouds, looked cold. A shadow crossed the car and Neal looked up, realizing that there was a sun roof. Overhead, a dragon winged across the sky, circling several times before flying off. "Was that Elizabeth?"

Peter pulled over and got out of the car. Neal joined him. He gazed up at the sky and there wasn't one Dracon, but three, disporting themselves in the bright afternoon sunlight. Of course Neal had seen Draconis in flight before, but always from a distance. And never in such an apparently playful mood. The three Draconis looked like they were engaged in an elaborate game of tag. One would grab the tail of another and hold it for a second, then let go.

Neal snuck a glance at Peter, who was smiling fondly. "You know them?"

"Yes. They are younglings under Elizabeth's care."

Infinitely curious about his own kind, Neal had to ask, "And how old – in Human years – is a youngling?"

"These three are between five and eleven years old. Draconis and Humans have similar maturity cycles and reach adulthood in about the same span of years. We just stop aging."

"They look awfully big for young children." Each Dracon was the size of a Boeing 727.

"Size is not an indicator of maturity." Peter clapped him on the arm before getting back into the car. "Come on, we're going to be late. El's expecting us for lunch. She gets a little tetchy when she's hungry."

Neal swallowed, immediately thinking of the old science fiction classic, "To Serve Man".

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Peter had enjoyed chasing Neal Caffrey when he thought the young man was just a very intelligent, very devious, very creative soft-skin. He had admired Caffrey for all of those qualities and had looked forward to adding him to his hoard once he'd paid his debt to Human justice.

Even now, six weeks after picking him up at Sing-Sing, Peter still had a hard time believing that he'd forgotten about Neal. Yes, he'd been focused on David, and then on bringing David's murderer to justice, but that seemed – at least now – a weak excuse for forgetting about Neal and his own plans.

Because Neal Caffrey – regardless of his blood, was pretty unforgettable. And based on the month and a half they'd been working together, Peter had the feeling that he'd have taken a permanent physical claim out on Neal's ass even though he was a soft-skin.

He'd never felt this way before. No one ever had made him quite this hot and bothered before in Human form. He found himself obsessing over Caffrey to the point where he was ready to put a damn anklet on himself to keep from transforming and eating the next person who flirted with him. Touched him. Made free with what he had claimed as his.

Even now, two hours into a car ride with Neal, it was all he could do not to pull over, lay him on the hood of his car and fuck him. When he had stopped, it was as much a moment of self-preservation as indulging Neal's curiosity. He needed to clear his nostrils of Neal's scent. Even in his Human form, it was too enticing.

The rest of the journey didn't take long. They passed through a gate, left wide open as always, and pulled up to the sprawling farm house on a few hundred acres carved out of the Adirondack State Park that Elizabeth used as the nerve center for the operations of the clan.

"You seem … surprised."

"It looks rather ordinary."

"What were you expecting?"

"Don't know. Maybe something a little grander, more castle-like?"

Peter had to laugh. "Complete with storerooms filled with precious gems and bars of gold? Maybe an oubliette or a moat?"

Neal nodded. "Yeah."

"I so am going to enjoy knocking down all your fantasies."

"No gold? No jewels?"

"You have a one-track mind, Caffrey."

"I'm Dracon, I like shiny things."

"I don't think being Kin has anything to do with your attraction to treasure. And it's crows, not Draconis, who like shiny things."

"Crows are indiscriminate. I have good taste."

"That you do." Peter stopped the car at the apex of the driveway and the front door opened before he and Neal were out of the car. A tall woman greeted them with a smile. "Elizabeth said you were bringing her something extra special for lunch."

Neal dug in his heels and actually tried to get back into the car. Peter couldn't help but laugh. "Stop it, Yvonne. Neal's nervous enough."

He let Neal cling to his shadow as he opened the trunk. The aroma of freshly make bagels wafted out. His clan chief had a well-known weakness for these downstate dough balls. There was a small cooler that held the smoked fish and cheese that El also wanted. He handed the cooler to Neal and took the bagels.

"Hope I brought enough. El asked for three dozen, but I got four - the extra dozen was free."

"That _should_ be enough. She's been seriously jonesing for bagels for a week. I even drove into Albany yesterday and got a half-dozen from Brueggers, but she threatened to use them as suppositories on me." Yvonne led them into the house. "I would threaten to quit, but I know this is just a passing mood."

"As if she'd let you."

Yvonne sniffed. "I'm a free agent. Elizabeth knows that."

Peter looked over at Neal, wondering just what he made of this seemingly bizarre conversation. And then he didn't have to wonder anymore. Neal looked … terrified.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Neal _was_ terrified. He really had figured that Peter was joking about being eaten. June was a darling, and as much of a con artist as he was. She'd be more likely to aid and abet than eat him. Apparently Peter had arrested her for some palm reading scam in the 1920's, back when Draconis were first getting involved in law enforcement, and in the decades that followed, they'd become the unlikeliest of friends.

But this Elizabeth seemed truly fearsome. And if Peter owed her his loyalty and she didn't like him, then Peter might not have a choice. Neal Caffrey could end up on the menu, instead of the goodies from Russ and Daughter.

But Yvonne seemed nice. Calm and competent as she led them through the house. They dropped the food in the kitchen, where another young woman was working. She smiled at Neal and introduced herself as Brittney. But Peter didn't linger and tugged him away.

The interior of the house belied its old-fashioned exterior. The rooms they passed through were roomy and decorated with modern furnishings in bright colors. There was a bit of clutter, which Neal supposed was to be expected from a Dracon, but it was a homey clutter. Old yellow ware pottery and books – many of them on art – competed for shelf space. And of all things, a big yellow Labrador retriever greeted them with a happy woof.

Peter scratched the dog's ears. "Hey, Satchmo."

Neal half expected the dog to respond in Human tongue, but he simply panted and went back to sleep.

A woman entered the room, went to Peter and kissed him on the lips. Although the gesture was inherently intimate, Neal didn't get the sense that the kiss was anything more than a familiar greeting. When she turned to face him, Neal almost gasped. The newcomer was a petit brunette, with large blue eyes and a heart-shaped face. Her resemblance to Kate was startling.

"You must be Neal Caffrey." She came to him, hand outstretched. "I'm Elizabeth."

 _This is Elizabeth?_ Neal tried not to let his astonishment leak through, and instead, turned on the charm. "It's a pleasure. Peter's told me about you."

"Only good things, I hope?"

Neal just nodded, knowing that if he opened his mouth, he'd probably stick his foot in it and ask if she'd really eaten her predecessor.

"And I've heard so much about you."

"You have?" Neal winced as he heard the almost squeaky tone in his voice. So much for turning on the charm.

"Yes. Peter talked about you quite a bit when you led him on that merry chase four years ago. And he's filled me in on what happened a few months ago." Elizabeth walked deep into his personal space and captured his gaze. Neal felt stripped bare. He didn't think she was reading his mind, but maybe she was taking the measure of his soul.

Then she smiled. "I terrify you. Why?"

Neal tried to smile back. "Peter told me if you didn't like me, you'd eat me."

Elizabeth laughed. And again, it felt like the air was shimmering. "Peter has an unfortunate habit of making that threat."

"So it's an empty one?" Neal didn't make the mistake of looking over at Peter, but he was relieved.

And his relief was short lived at Elizabeth's blunt response. "No."

"Oh."

"But I probably should clarify that threat. You put Peter in danger, you hurt him in any way, I _will_ eat you. Peter is mine, he's as much a part of my hoard as the Metropolitan Museum of Art or the Whitney or the New York Public Library. And what's mine, I protect."

Elizabeth delivered this extraordinary speech in an extremely ordinary tone.

"The Met and the Whitney are yours? The New York Public Library, too?" Neal didn't know how that was possible.

"Yes, they are part of my hoard. And everything in there is mine. Did you ever steal anything from those places?"

Elizabeth's eyes glowed and Neal felt himself unable to lie. "Yes, ma'am. I'll return it, of course."

"Don't bother. What's yours is now Peter's and therefore, it's mine."

Now Neal had to look at Peter. "Is that true? You own everything of mine?"

Peter just nodded slowly. And smirked. Neal drew the now-obvious conclusion. "And you own me, too."

"You're part of my hoard."

Neal thought back to the conversation he had had with Peter, when they were on the terrace.

_"How long will our partnership last?"_

_"How does four years sound?"_

_"Do I have a choice?"_

_"You do, but I don't think you'll like the other options."_

_"So, let me get this straight. You own me, for the next four years."_

_"You okay with that?"_  


"You never agreed to four years, did you? You just let me think that?"

Peter lost his smirk and something dark and serious turned in his eyes. He pulled Neal away from Elizabeth's watching eyes. "You are mine. Whether you roam the world or you're at your desk in the office, whether you're locked up or sunbathing on the terrace in June's place. You're mine. I didn't want to have this conversation here, or now, but that's how it is and how it will be. Get used to it."

Neal just stared at Peter. A million questions crowded on his tongue, but he couldn't utter a single word.

"Hon, you're not doing yourself any good." Elizabeth intervened. "Let's have a civilized meal and talk about our kids."

 _Kids?_ Neal turned to look at Elizabeth so quickly he got dizzy.

Peter just shook his head and steered Neal over to a small, informal dining room set with all the trappings of a traditional brunch.

Elizabeth made a bee-line for the lox and bagel and told them to take what they wanted.

He wasn't hungry – not after all of the earth-shattering revelations of the past few minutes – but he could use a drink. There was a pitcher of something he hoped was a highly alcoholic Bloody Mary and another that was probably either mimosas or straight up orange juice. He poured a glass of the red, tomato scented liquid and took a sip. It was a Bloody Mary and he couldn't tell the vodka content through all of the heat.

Elizabeth reached for the pitcher. "That's Yvonne's special recipe. She uses fresh horseradish, hence the burn."

Neal wiped the tears that started streaming out of his eyes. "There's something ironic about that."

Elizabeth chuckled. "Yes, I suppose there is. You can have a bagel, if you'd like."

Neal realized just how momentous that offer was. Peter had brought the bagels for Elizabeth. They were _hers_. "Thank you."

The soft, chewy dough with a schmear of cream cheese did help douse the fire in his mouth and belly. But nothing could put out the fire of curiosity and he had to ask, "Kids? You and Peter have children."

With a startling lack of paternal interest, Peter replied, "A few of them are mine."

"Peter's my most fertile mate. Six now? Or is it seven?"

How could Peter not know how many children he had?

Through a mouthful of bagel, Peter answered, "Six. Denora is Clinton's."

Neal couldn't keep from asking, "Clinton's? Clinton Jones?"

Peter nodded. "He's rather proud that his first mating was productive. Couldn't stop bragging for weeks."

Before Neal could ask, Elizabeth rested a gentle hand on his arm. "Male and female Draconis are not monogamous. We may choose to form a pair bond with another Dracon, but not for purposes of fertility."

Neal nodded, pretending to understand.

"El?" The single syllable rumbled out of Peter and a light bulb flickered and died. "Please take your hand off Neal."

Elizabeth smiled, squeezed Neal's arm again, trailed her fingers across the back of his hand and let go. "Control, Peter. You're slipping again."

Peter wiped his mouth and stood abruptly. "Caffrey's mine, and even though I owe you my allegiance and my fertility, you have no right to touch him without my permission. Unless you are planning on making a claim. But you know that what is mine, I keep."

Neal watched in horror as all of the glassware in the room started to vibrate. He stood, too. "Guys – look. I don't know what's going on, but I'm not a bone for the two of you to fight over." Neal wanted to protest that he didn't belong to Peter, but he had some sense of self-preservation.

Elizabeth replied. "No, Neal, you're not a bone or a prize or a piece of disputed territory. Peter has rightfully claimed you for his own and I've already affirmed that claim. I was just … testing him. Which was very naughty of me."

Neal still felt like they'd just tried to tear him in two. "That's not nice."

Elizabeth nodded. "I'm not nice. I'm Peter's clan chief and his well-being is of paramount concern."

Neal wasn't sure how challenging Peter was good for him, but he didn't ask. "We were talking about children. Peter has six?"

"Yes. All girls."

Peter had sat down, his possessive and angry mood gone. "We saw Arianna, Meghan and Adele playing in the south field."

"Those are your daughters?" Neal was surprised that Peter had so casually watched the young Draconis.

"They are."

"And you didn't greet them?"

Peter commented. "Elizabeth is their parent. It would have been wrong to interfere."

"Oh." Neal wondered if this was something that had to do with hoard rights. He wished there was a book that explained everything. Maybe Mozzie could help him get his hands on one.

Neal listened intently as Peter and Elizabeth talked about the offspring. Two of the older girls were Harvard-bound, but one was putting up a fight. Apparently she didn't want to continue the family's Ivy League tradition and was demanding the chance to study in Oxford.

"Medieval music. Can you think of anything _less_ useful?"

Peter just shrugged. "It's not like Corinne will starve in a garret somewhere. Let her study what she wants, where she wants."

"Okay. I figured you'd say that."

"Thanks for consulting me, though. I do appreciate it.

Peter finished his coffee and wiped his mouth before turning this attention back to Neal. Despite the past six weeks in Peter's constant company, Neal still hadn't gotten used to that laser-like focus. "We need to go."

Although it seemed like Elizabeth already knew the answer, she asked, "Why so soon?"

"I made a promise to Neal."

"And you keep your promises," Elizabeth replied.

"Always." Peter just kept staring at him and Neal felt the hair stand up on the back of his neck.

Elizabeth stood up and smiled at Neal. "It was a pleasure finally meeting you, after all these years."

Neal might have said likewise, but he wasn't really sure. Peter had put his hand on the small of his back and was gently steering him out of the room. They might have passed Yvonne on the way out but Neal was so electrified by Peter's touch that nothing else registered.

Soon, they were out of the house and in the car, cruising down the long driveway. But they were not headed back to the city. Peter turned onto a graded, but unpaved utility road. The BMW crunched on the gravel until Peter made a sharp left into a field. He stopped the car and got out. Neal followed suit.

He looked around and it seemed like they were on top of the world, which was a strange feeling, since there were no great elevations in this region. But the field of winter gold grass, bordered on two sides by stands of maple and birch, had an unobstructed view of distant mountain peaks – Vermont, most likely.

"Strip." Peter's command interrupted his appreciation of the surroundings.

"What?"

"Strip. Get undressed." Peter had tossed his jacket on the hood of the car and was pulling off his sweater.

Neal didn't quite understand what was happening and while he wouldn't object to a little seduction, getting naked and doing it in a barren field in broad daylight was not seduction in his book. Not by any definition.

"Don't be such a soft-skin, Caffrey. Remember my promise."

 _Oh._ Neal pulled off his jacket and couldn't get out of the rest of his clothes fast enough. He was naked and shivering. Well, almost naked. He kept his shoes and socks on and Peter laughed.

"Seriously, Caffrey?" Peter laughed and looked at his feet.

"Okay, but if I get sick, you're going to take care of me."

"Naturally. I always take care of that which is mine."

Now, those words actually warmed Neal and he toed off his shoes and his right sock. The anklet was tangled in his left one. It was more than a little embarrassing when Peter, impressively naked, knelt at his feet and unlocked the black plastic cuff. And even more so when he pulled the sock off.

At least Peter didn't make any remarks about his mostly hairless body. Neal had always been somewhat proud of his smooth state, at least until one rather burly lover had said he looked like a girl.

But Peter was just as smooth. Maybe it was a Dracon thing. Another mystery to solve.

"So, how does this work?"

Peter didn't say a word, he just started _changing_. It happened so fast, Neal couldn't identify the moment when Peter stopped looking Human and became Dracon. He was enormous – maybe twice the size of the Kin they'd seen earlier. When Peter lowered his head to Neal so they could see eye-to-eye, Neal could feel the displacement of the air. He realized that Peter's eye was almost as tall as he was.

At least Neal wasn't cold anymore. Peter radiated heat – a very pleasurable warmth. Until he opened his mouth and Neal saw the teeth. Nothing could have ever prepared him for the sight of those fangs, ivory-colored, the biggest over six feet long. The fear did something to him.

He got angry.

How _dare_ Peter do this to him? The anger felt good, it felt freeing. He remembered the moment when Halbend had grabbed him as he was walking out of Sing-Sing, how furious he had been that someone dared to stop him.

Neal felt himself begin to Change.

Over the last few months, he'd tried not to think about this moment – when and if it would ever come. But in the very darkest moment of the night, Neal had worried that he wouldn't be able to take on this form, this trueness.

Peter stepped back and the earth shook and suddenly, they were truly eye-to-eye. And Peter's eyes and teeth were not quite so huge anymore.

Neal looked at his arms – which weren't tiny little things like he'd seen on dinosaurs, but long and almost man-like – even ending in five-clawed "hands." His skin was blue and gold and it seemed like his scales were tipped with diamonds. He stepped back and tried to look over his shoulder at his wings, but his legs were clumsy. He got tangled in his tail and fell over.

It didn't hurt, but it was humiliating.

_Like it?_

Neal wasn't sure how he heard Peter, but he did – it was Peter's Human voice, but in his head. Neal tried replying, and formed the words in his head. _Very much._

_Good. Now turn back._

_How?_ Not that he wanted to.

_Think of something you want in your soft-skin form. Something you can't have in your true form._

Neal closed his eyes and called up Kate's face from the very first time he saw her. And then the sky wasn't so close anymore and he was cold and his ass hurt from the hard ground. "So that's how it works."

"Yes." Peter was back in his Human form and was pulling on his pants. He stopped dressing to toss Neal his clothes. "Now you see why I told you not to try this when you were still in prison."

"Yeah." He managed his pants and socks and shoes, but as he pulled his turtleneck on, it snagged on his hair and something scraped his scalp and then his forehead. "Ouch."

"Hold on, stop struggling." Peter did something and Neal managed to get his head through the tight sweater.

"You left some scales behind again." Peter held out his hand – they were blue and gold and diamond tipped. One was streaked with red – his blood. Neal tried to take them, but Peter closed his hand and pocketed the scales.

"How do you feel?"

Neal thought for a moment. "Small."

"That's normal."

"When can we do this again?"

"I'll let you know." But Peter was smiling and Neal could feel the waves of pleasure rolling off of him.

He headed towards the car, but Peter grabbed his arm. "I think you're forgetting something." Peter held up that damn anklet.

"Oh, yeah – right." Neal stuck out his left ankle, and this time, when Peter put the cuff on, their eyes locked as the plastic shackle locked around his leg. Neal felt arousal course through his veins.

He was so screwed.

__

FIN

  



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